


Deception

by ebenflo



Category: Actor RPF, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Cheating, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Marvel Universe, Robert Downey Jr - Freeform, tom holland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 21:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16647872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebenflo/pseuds/ebenflo
Summary: "Sometimes we don't choose to deceive. Sometimes, life deceives us, and what we thought we wanted was never what we really needed all along."Shameless first person POV aka Robert/Tom x reader, where narrator is in a lovely relationship with Tom but falls prey to Robert's seduction. An unexpected incident forces her to re-evaluate everything.





	Deception

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry Robert, Tom...also Robert's amazing wife Susan, who I deeply admire as a person and hope like hell she forgives me for borrowing her husband for my wicked fantasies (oops).
> 
> Short chapters. Sorry, short attention span.

**NOW**

My fingers are shaking as I recap the pen. I haven't written a letter like this, an actual physical letter, in a very long time. But some things demand to be on paper. Some words need to be put in ink, if only to reassure ourselves of the decision we're making. The looping sloped scribbles that profess my true feelings - there's no turning back from them. Sealing the envelope - that feels final. I chew my bottom lip as I print his name on the front and sit staring at it, accusingly, even though it was my own work. How stupid, how foolish I'd been to get to this point.

It takes me a moment to realise my phone is ringing. I look at the screen, fighting the childish temptation not to answer, to bury it between the cushions in the couch. Wavering between decision and indecision I grab it, slide the bar across the screen.

"Robert-"

He says my name softly, cutting me off. There's a gravelly quality to his voice that is different to the low growl he uses when he addresses me in the privacy of his luxury suites and - once or twice - the seclusion of a spare room backstage somewhere. There's no heat to it, no sex. He sounds tired, and for one of the few times in our acquaintance I'm reminded of his age. It doesn't sit well; my stomach churns uneasily.

"I was just coming to see you," I hear myself say, fingering the smooth cream edges of the sealed envelope. "We need to talk. Or, um, you need to read. I- we need to talk about this."

The verbal diarrhoea, it sounds so cliche I cringe. I wanted this to be smooth. I wanted to be the adult - the in-control one. The fact he still has this kind of hold over me can't be healthy. Further proof this was doomed from the beginning. We should never have played with fire.

"You need to get up here. There's been an accident."

And that's it. Four words. The axis of my world tilts. I don't need to ask who it is, or what's happened. In my mind's eyes I see a familiar face, dark flint-like eyes, flat lips, the flash of straight white teeth. My hands fly for my purse and keys and I'm out the door, Robert's voice still calling my name, tinny and distant through the call I haven't yet hung up on.

*

Robert's waiting for me by a side door of the hospital. His mouth is set in a firm line and his expression is unreadable. I'm ushered through by two security guards with biceps like Christmas hams. It all seems a little ridiculous and I stare at their dark sunglasses. There's no press, no waiting cameras. The need for this level of security seems unwarranted and I suppress a hysterical giggle, vaguely acknowledging it as my only way of coping with what's coming. My hands twist uselessly in front of me.

"Is he...I mean..."

"He's alive," Robert says flatly. His hands are shoved deep in the pockets of his crumpled jeans. He blinks owlishly at me in the dim light. A five o'clock shadow skirts around the chiselled angle of his jaw and his eyes are puffy. 

That much I guess I could have assumed. _Hospital,_ my mind offers, you're at the hospital. We wouldn't be here if he wasn't alive. The agonising rate of my pulse slows just a little as I keep repeating the words at myself.  _We wouldn't be here if he wasn't alive._ But just as soon as I think that, another voice, darker and more insidious enters my thoughts.  _We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you._

It's silly of course. No one could have predicted this happening. But all the same the guilt gnaws at me, just like it has every time I let Robert take me, every time I submitted my body to his. It's like this whole thing is the universe's cosmic punishment. The hysteria threatens to well up inside me again, overwhelming me. Robert is rattling off injuries like he's reading a shopping list. There's a nasal lilt to his voice, and he'll say it's allergies but any idiot can see it's not.

The envelope burns a hole through the side of the purse, slung low at my hips.

"He's been asking for you," Robert finishes. He smacks his lips together and stares at the ground for a long time before looking up again, gaze unfocused. "First thing he asked about, actually."

"He's awake?"

Robert smiles, and it's warm and whole but I can see he's hurting. This thing, our actions, has taken a bigger toll on us than we could have guessed.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's awake."

"Can I see him?" I ask, feeling young and small. I feel the first prickle of heat at the corner of my eyes and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to compose myself.

Robert steps forward as if to pull me in towards him, but somewhere along the way he falters and instead his hand falls clumsily on my shoulder in a somewhat fatherly pat. It's worse than if he hadn't touched me at all and I let out a hiccup of a sob. I close the distance between us anyway and bury my wet face in the warmth of his shirt. He smells like sweat and cologne. It's more familiar to me than I had any right or claim to. Somewhat reluctantly Robert rests his hands on my back and strokes me gently, like a wounded animal.

*

I stare in from the small window in the door. Tom hasn't seen me yet. He's alone.

Stunt gone wrong, Robert intones from behind me. He goes on to say something about wires and blunt force but I'm barely listening, staring at Tom, transfixed. He looks so lost and young, a small figure in the swath of crisp hospital linen. He's turned away from the door but I can see one of his arms elevated in a heavy cast. A drip emerges from the right side of his pale slender neck. I shiver, thinking of how much I love that neck, and the nights I spent buried in the crook of it.

I ask where his family is.

"They're on their way as we speak," Robert says softly. "Just us, or rather you...for now."

Neither of us mention the last time I spoke to Tom. I close my eyes, hearing the echo of heated words spat out in an angry haze. I swallow hard, nodding. I can do this. 

I plaster the bravest smile I can muster on my face and step into the room.

"Tom I'm so glad you're-"

Perhaps I was too naive, or maybe an idiot, but either way it doesn't prepare me for the cold glare that greets me.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

 


End file.
